Staring at a spot on the floor I want to stop thinking but that's always the problem my head's never empty What if, what if, perhaps and maybe endlessly circle, driving me crazy in my mind I see a door it's flung wide open, I want to try and close that passage its hinges are rusty its weight defies belief held by false hope no stranger to feeling wanting relief Hope, always hope twined all together A rope made of hope I find disgust with myself with the way that I feel it's all in my head I'll never be real